Red Needle
by Talaco
Summary: Sanosuke compliments Megumi's hands.


DISCLAIMER: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin.   
WARNINGS: None.   
TIME LINE: Independent/Before Kyoto Arc.

* * *

Red Needle

* * *

Megumi didn't mind blood.

Working as a doctor in Edo required someone without a faint heart, and she   
certainly qualified. Without so much as a wince, she brushed her hands over   
pulsing organs, gaping wounds, dried gashes, tangled nerves and dipped them   
into pools of blood like a ritual ceremony. Blue, purple, green, and yellow   
bruises and swollen skin flickered past her eyes and there was always, always   
red. From katanas, to street fights, to clubs, axes and knives she studied,   
diagnosed, and healed them all. Fingers delicately sewed flesh like a torn   
doll while eyebrows knitted over the nose in concentration. Each stitch   
carefully inserted in almost perfect distance of each other and the skin   
started to mesh together once again. She liked that. The body became a whole   
like before and being the one who was involved in it made her feel like she   
had a purpose. A purpose to mend flesh and bone.

What she did mind was the invisible blood.

Beautiful scarlet flowers blooming out of the ground and the seed pods scraped   
away gently. Blobs of white protrude and turn into black tar which was later   
to be dried and crushed into fine light yellowish-brown powder. She   
remembered: dry at 60°C and the morphine content adjusted to 10%. That   
beautiful drug infiltrated the mind and swept thoughts away like the ocean   
waves while the body turned ugly and decayed. The creating process was clean   
with little mess but she still felt death at her fingertips. It laughed in her   
ears, its smile mocking her in every poppy flower she picked under the sun.   
_Then it will burst into flames and then into black ashes. _Every little pinch   
of that powder drug gave a small tug at her heart when she wrapped them in   
their paper packages. Yes, it was definitely killing her as well.

"Catch it, Ken-nii! Catch!"

She blinked out of her reverie, looking up from the cooking board where she   
was chopping up radish, to the figures playing outside. Her mouth almost   
twitched into a smile when the clumsy rurouni stumbled forward, missing the   
ball thrown at him by Ayame. Their wholesome laughter penetrated the silence   
and Megumi couldn't help but feel a prickle of wistfulness when a tiny piece   
of the past tapped into her head. She watched the red haired man brush himself   
off, a smile on his face that practically radiated warmth. Red trails of hair   
swept across his face and deep purple eyes, the color of sorrow and memories,   
shimmered in the sun. Such a man daunted Megumi sometimes and she practically   
had to tear her eyes away before she called out to him. _Because when I do,   
you're always there to answer me._ She slowly placed the knife on the counter   
and her reflection on the blade stared back at her, twisting into an ugly   
frown.

"I hate you," she said aloud.

"Hate who?" A low voice, Sanosuke's, interrupted her thoughts. He was leaning   
against the kitchen's doorframe with his arms crossed and that easy smile   
playing on his lips. "'Cause whatever it is, I sure as hell didn't do it."

She stared at her reflection for another second before turning to face him   
with her customary look of annoyance. "No one."

He looked confused and Megumi expected him to leave for the Akabeko, knowing   
how loitering too long in the dojo bothered him. Not because Kaoru made him do   
chores, though that was a contributing factor, but because the man Sanosuke   
once was demanded it. It stirred in his blood; to keep moving, to keep   
fighting for the thrill, for a purpose, for a reason. Kenshin was the same,   
she thought, eyes returning to the red haired man outside. He would go and   
wander again, trying to find what all men searched for. Like Sanosuke. _It's in   
your eyes, _she wanted to tell both of them. _They're always looking into the   
past. _Maybe her eyes were the same. But before she could go deeper into the   
subject than it already was, Sanosuke once again disturbed her by stepping   
completely inside and choosing to lean against the wooden counter. He didn't   
say a word as he watched Megumi continue to cut the radish into neat slices.

**Chop chop chop.**

"What?" she finally said tightly.

Sanosuke blinked. "What do you mean 'what'?"

"You're staring," she replied irritably, her dark eyes watching him   
assessingly. Megumi tended to do that, even if what she was looking at wasn't   
an injury or paperwork. People are always being judged, she told herself.

"Just at your hands," Sanosuke admitted unashamedly, his gutterpunk grin   
returning slowly.

**Chop. Chop. Chop.**

"What about them?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. They're nice looking. For a doctor."

The fool. "They're just hands," she said, her voice tense. "They get dirty a   
lot."

Sanosuke raised his eyebrows. "Oh, you mean when you get blood all over them   
and shit between your fingernails?" He almost laughed. "That doesn't matter."

_Because white was meant to be stained._

"Because you can wash them," he said simply, unable to comprehend the   
underlying analogy.

Unable to stop herself, she felt the corners of her mouth turn upwards. "It   
doesn't work. They'll always feel dirty." She finished cutting and placed the   
knife on the cooking board slowly.

"What are you saying, Fox?" Sanosuke rolled his eyes, annoyed with Megumi's   
subdued atmosphere. Without consideration, he reached for her hands and held   
them in his own. His were large and dark skinned, the veins bulging slightly   
from all those years of wielding his zanbatou. Hers were delicate and pale,   
but the tips of her fingers were slightly roughened by pressing the needle   
between them too many times. And before she could protest or jerk them away,   
he said in an oddly soft voice, "They're beautiful."

Megumi stared at him for a moment before slipping her hands away, like a man   
exhaling his last breath. As if she didn't hear him, she said, "Sano." Her   
voice was steady.

"Yeah?"

She turned her back to him, facing the window once more. "Tell Kenshin and the   
girls to come inside. Lunch is ready."

Sanosuke only nodded and muttered "okay" before walking out of the kitchen,   
giving Megumi a quick glance before completely disappearing. She didn't bother   
watching him go because there he was outside with Kenshin, hands in his   
pockets while slouching again. The man could never present himself properly,   
but the statement was viewed with a touch of fondness. She looked down and put   
the dish of radishes with the other set of plates on the lunch tray that she   
would momentarily serve to all of them.

But not before she wiped the wetness away from her eyes.

* * *

NOTES: Wow, this is my first Megumi centered fic (an idioticly waffy one, that   
is). It's a short one because I'm still floundering with character and her   
interactions with Sanosuke. I used to not like Megumi, but now I really do--   
even more so than Kaoru. She's so realistic and holds her own. All in all,   
she's a great looking bitch with a fantastic personality. Hm, maybe if this   
fic goes well, I'll start moving on to my S/M phase. Who knows. 


End file.
